Page 49 of Gator

“No, you’re not. You’re here because you’re the piece of shit that killed my wife’s parents. You raped her. You forced your bodyguard to father a child, hoping to use him as bait so that you could kill her and get what you wanted. This.” Gator waved his hand in the air, and Hanz swallowed, a fine bead of sweat appearing on his upper lip.

“How are we doing so far, Mr. Metzger?” asked Doug.

“I need my shares. I’m entitled to my shares,” he said calmly.

“No, you’re entitled to nothing. Especially after what you attempted. You’ve fucked with the wrong group of men,” smiled Gator.

“I don’t know any of you,” he said, shaking his head.

“Sure you do,” smiled Cam. “We go by a different name now, but you were hoping to wipe out REAPER-Patriots. Too fucking bad.”

“Dear God,” whispered Messina. “You’ve led us directly into a trap.”

“Give the man a prize,” said Hex. “He got one answer right.”

“Let me go,” said Messina. “Let me go, and I will not bother you again. I’ll leave. I don’t even know where I am.”

“I don’t think so,” said Tanner, startling the man from behind. “It’s time we take a walk.”

Dominic, Parker, and Liffey shoved Messina toward the door, Tanner following them.

“Where are they taking him?” asked Hanz.

“Does it matter? Is his health any of your concern?” asked Doug. “I mean, if he dies, that leaves you to take it all, right?”

Metzger looked at all the men frowning in his direction.

“How did you know?”

“You didn’t have the money to invest solely in Carswell. You needed other backers that would allow you to present it as your own. Ruiz, Messina, Xi, and Romanescu. You were lucky that most walked away. All except Messina. Although we’re handling that for you.”

“Anyone ever tell you all that you talk too much?” smirked Hanz.

The door behind him opened, and he expected to see Messina. Instead, he saw a tiny white-haired woman walking toward him. She was wearing a pair of warm fleece pants with a matching zip jacket. It had sunflowers embroidered on the right breast. He had no clue who this woman was, but she walked right toward him.

“Your ex-wife is dead.”

“That’s old news, old lady,” he smirked.

Mama Irene smiled as the fist of Bodhi connected to the man’s gut. He gasped for air, falling to his knees. Mama Irene gripped his head with both hands, murmuring as she did. He was paralyzed. Unable to move at all. When she was done, she released his head and turned to Cam and Luke.

“He has no soul. No heart. No truth in his body. Get to it. My gators are hungry.” She turned and walked toward the door again, touching each of her boys as she passed. When Hanz was finally able to collect himself, he stood, wobbling back and forth.

“Wh-what was that? Who was that?” he gasped. Gator gripped the man’s throat, pulling him toward him.

“That was your executioner.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The gators were hungry. Mama Irene was right about that. Of course, she always seemed to be right about things. There would be no trace of Messina or Metzger found in the bayous of south Louisiana. In fact, there would be no one who even cared to look.

Xi had disappeared. Ruiz was starting over. And Romanescu was imprisoned in his own country.

Gator assured Dylan that she and Joey were safe. In fact, they would always be safe, and she knew enough from the other women to not question any of it. With the biting November winds upon them, they were all just happy to have a quiet start to the holiday season.

Dylan saw Ham bring Sadie over on the boat and watched as she spoke quietly to several people, even apologizing to Luke and others. Before dinner was served, she walked out to the gardens and sat, just staring. Dylan could feel her pain, and it was killing her.

“Mind if I sit with you?” she asked.

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